Morning Coffee
by Toph13139
Summary: Zuko realizes that being Fire Lord is not as fun or honorable or easy as it once looked to him, and he realizes that ruling a country takes a huge amount of patience and coffee. Mostly coffee. AU OneShot.


**A/N: Hello, guys! This is my first Avatar fanfic in a long time, now. Just to clarify, this is an A.U, Zuko is slightly older, probably around his twenties, and everything's cool and fine. So... Yeah. Enjoy.**

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Zuko felt the morning sun shine through his curtains and cursed under his breath as the light hit his face. Summers in the Fire Nation were known for two things: first, it was as hot as hell itself and second, the sun was so bright that things looked white at all times.

And now that unhealthily bright sunlight had found its way into Zuko's room and awakened him from his slumber. Excellent. Zuko rolled onto his back and scrubbed his eyes. A sleepy groan left his throat as he attempted to reach for the curtains to close them.

If anyone was there and saw Zuko doing that, they would laugh their asses out. For the Lord to be able to close the curtains, he'd have to mutate into some kind of horrid, ten-armed monster, or he could always stand up, which was out of the question. Plus, it was too early for any person to have a sense of distance.

After a few minutes, Zuko gave up on the curtains and rolled back again. His alarm clock started to do that annoying noise that alarm clocks do, his cell-phone's alarm started off too, and in a few minutes, Zuko was 100% positive that his assistant, Jian, would walk in, with his unusually high-pitched voice, and read the Lord's schedule for the day.

From the minute he had become Fire Lord, the only things that had occupied Zuko's mind were meetings and more meetings, and things going wrong with the country, and people dying, and diseases, and more pessimistic crap Zuko really didn't feel like hearing. It really felt as if each new day was worse than the one preceding it. Indeed, that was a fact. Zuko was sure that instead of forty six new bodies in the morgue, there were going to be sixty four, and tomorrow, they would reach the three digit numbers.

Zuko would make some positive remarks every once in a while.

"_The flu is killing everyone off, the soldiers don't want to leave the colonies, the rebels are rebelling, the arcs are empty, there's no food, there's no water, everything's on fire, the world hates us (ironically enough, they wondered why), the uniforms don't fit, the previous Fire Lord spent half the country's economy __on_ _a gigantic drill, __nobody likes rye bread and it's the only type __that's __left..."_

Then Zuko would interrupt by saying something like:

"_Well... The Fire lilies are blooming quite beautifully this year, don't you think?"_

Then the rest would stare for a few seconds, believing their Fire Lord's mind had already succumbed to the pressure his job created, and then the list of "karma" would continue.

Yet, there was only so much a human being could do, and Zuko had only two hands, two legs, one mouth, and one brain. Without counting, of course, those belonging to the Royal Assembly. They only had one hand free, the other one hiding behind their backs (probably holding a dagger),big mouths from which all the shit could run freely, and empty heads upon their shoulders. Because there's no other way to describe how useless they were, how useless they had been, and how useless they would continue to be until Zuko did something about it. How fitting that "Assembly" began with the word "Ass".

The saddest part was that Zuko couldn't do anything about it. It always came down to how many supporters he would lose and how many he would gain, and in comparison, it wasn't worth the risk, truly. Plus, he didn't need a royal scandal right now. The situation was bad enough already.

Zuko exhaled a defeated sigh and finally decided to open his eyes. He tried to grasp the last peaceful moments of his morning, knowing that at any second now his insufferable assistant (another "ass") would storm in and give him the-

"Rise and shine, Fire Lord Zuko! It's a lovely day, and today you have a pretty tight schedule!" Zuko groaned as his assistant, Jian, stormed into the room. The man knew no way to enter a room silently. In the Palace, Jian was known as "the guy who's always there". Why? Because he was always there,and everybody noticed. They either heard him or smelled him or felt his omnipotent presence, who knows.

Kicking the bed sheets off, Zuko shut his eyes and opened them again, an exercise that would help his body realize that it was time to get up, whether he wanted it or not. Zuko knew that if he didn't get up now, Jian would come over and pull him out of bed.

Still lying on the bed, deciding whether to sit up or not, Zuko didn't hesitate to let his assistant know what was going through his mind.

"What have I told you about entering my room like that? Don't you knock? Don't you respect people's privacy? I could have you killed, you know?" Zuko's threat did not seem to intimidate his feisty assistant at all. Jian was as delicate as a flower but his will was as impenetrable as Ba Sing Se. Zuko smirked. He found a way to mock his Uncle for the rest of the eternity, now.

The Fire Lord finally made up his mind and stood up, shedding his blankets like dead skin and shrinking away from the light Jian had admitted. In comparison to the assistant's sickeningly cheery attitude, Zuko felt like a two-headed fish. You know, like the one he had heard from Sokka...

"Yes, but I'm still alive, aren't I?"Jian laughed.

Zuko watched as Jian called in the servants waiting outside his bedroom. The men quickly picked out the clothes that the Fire Lord was supposed to wear that day, and it was more than one outfit. According to the Fire Nation customs, the more layers one had on, the more important he or she was. And Zuko was the Fire Lord, so nobody in the country was more important than him, which meant a lot of layers... In summer. Zuko collapsed on the edge of his bed and waited for Jian to read his agenda for the day. Perhaps that would distract Zuko from the many layers that were going to asphyxiate him for the next twenty-four hours.

"So, first, as always,'Have some breakfast.'The chef is making your favorite:toast, eggs, bacon and the always needed orange juice!" Zuko stared blankly at Jian's hands. Hypnotized, Zuko watched as his assistant's fingers moved up and down, clasping the pen onto the board that the he held with so much care.

The sound of the bouncing pen, among so many other things, was driving Zuko crazy. Jian began to pace around Zuko's room, feeling free as if it was his own (shocker), but before the Fire Lord could make the first (or second) complaint of the day, he felt as the servants pulled him out of bed, ready to get him dressed.

Zuko never liked this ritual. He preferred dressing on his own, so that his would be the only hands touching his body. Human contact always made him uncomfortable. Unless, you know… Zuko needed one of those "you know" at that moment. But he was not using the Palace's concubines. Oh, no. First of all, Zuko didn't like that. He grew up in an environment (environment: n. Azula, Mai and Ty Lee) in which sexism was completely prohibited, and so he learned to respect (and fear) women. Plus, he didn't want to get inside the same women his father once... did. And no, do not bring Zuko's mother into this. Everybody makes mistakes every once in a while.

"Second," Jian continued, "'Spend some quality time with Mommy,' and by the way, she wants to go shopping today, so be prepared to get a lot of gifts and spend a lot of money." Zuko noticed, for the first time, how Jian's ways were unorthodox, and his speech and "s" sounds resembled that of a woman's. Zuko had noticed that before and he wondered why that was.

Another thing he couldn't get through was that Jian's hands always moved as delicately as Katara's and he always smelled nice. Not "manly nice" but "I just took a bath with rose scented soap" nice. It was obvious that Jian was not of the usual male prototype. He was like the bridge between girls and boys. Jian had the best of both worlds.

Zuko didn't like that. It made him uncomfortable as hell. He had heard of men like Jian during the three years of his banishment, but luckily, Zuko never came across one. Now he was stuck with one. No wonder why Sokka made so many offensive jokes every time he came.

"Third, 'Meetings with the ministers the rest of the day,' and that's how it ends. You'll have meetings until sunset, which sucks. Sadly, you'll have no time to spar today, unless you do it… Like, now. And if you want to make time to see your friends today, well, forget it, you should've told me sooner."

Not even once did Jian stop to look Zuko in the eyes. The perky man, with a really nice fashion sense, kept reading the schedule, avoiding his boss's gaze. Then, the very delicate assistant turned to the servants. "You guys, this schedule begins in ten minutes, so get this pretty boy ready… ASAP."

Zuko glared at Jian.

"You're my assistant; you're supposed to make room for things I enjoy, not pack every shitty-damn-thing into one single afternoon." The servants were making the final touches to Zuko's outfit when he dismissed them. The servants gave the usual bow to their ruler and left the room as quickly as ants, closing the door behind them.

Jian watched the four men as they walked out, and once they had left, the young assistant blinked. He knew he was going to get scolded, and he hated that. Jian felt that, each day that passed, he was closer to losing his job. And Jian didn't want that. Organizing was his life, and Jian loved organizing his Lord's schedule. It made him feel important.

Before Zuko could make a nasty comment about anything, Jian spoke up.

"You know I had no choice. Listen, I feel your pain and everything but, more than anyone in this country, Zuko, you should know that there are things you _have_ to do. Look, I know the things you enjoy, Zuko. I'm your assistant, I think I know you too much. But that's how it is."

For the first time in his entire time working with Jian, Zuko saw his face give up a little bit of light. He knew it was not Jian's fault. No. There were things he had to do because his people needed it, and he thanked the spirits Jian had that in mind at all times. But right now, Zuko needed his time alone.

"Jian, go away."

"But, breakfast—"

"Go."

Jian bowed, and proceeded to leave the Lord's room.

Zuko rolled his eyes and fell on the bed again. He felt as his body sank into the mattress more and more, and Zuko wished he could disappear forever and never return. This was definitely going to be a worse day than yesterday. And he couldn't do anything about it. Zuko was sick of it. He was Fire Lord, but he felt like a prisoner.

Each individual second of Zuko's day had already been planned. He wondered if Jian kept his own bathroom breaks written in the agenda, as well. He missed his old life, when he was free to run whenever he wanted, he was free to spar whenever he wanted, and he was free to go to the bathroom whenever he felt like it.

Zuko wondered what had happened to those days. What had become of that carefree Zuko? Even though,compared to the rest of the gang, he was pretty uptight. Zuko wondered when he had stopped making decisions for himself. Now he had to talk everything over. If there was a decision to be made about the country, there had to be a meeting where they could discuss all points, pros and cons, and eventually the optimism and the spirit would die in their very mouths.

Politicians had a way of screwing up great ideas.

But now, it was not about the country. It was about himself. About his life. Zuko was leading a life that made him miserable and unhappy and no matter how many goodies he had from everyone, it still meant that someone was being a hypocrite, that someone was trying to kill him, or that someone was trying to do something that was not going to be good for him.

Even his breakfasts were planned.

Fuck.

No. No, absolutely not. This had to stop today. Otherwise, what stories would he have to tell his grandkids?

_"Time? Let me tell you something about time. When I was your father's age, my assistant planned my breakfasts and I could only see my friends from 2p.m to 4p.m, after that, visits were over."_

_"Grandpa, we were talking about tonight's play."_

_"A play? Let me tell you something about plays—"_

No! That would suck! And that was awfully pathetic! He was a war hero and,even though he already had plenty to tell his grandkids, he didn't want it all to be war and more war. He wanted a story to tell. He wanted it to have romance and humor. He wanted to have good memories in this palace.

He didn't want some stupid fuck to plan his breakfasts and potty breaks.

From this point on, Zuko decided,it was his life. And he planned on taking its reins again.

…

He almost felt like saying "maybe later". But he knew, better than anyone, that this couldn't wait. It was either now or never. Plus, it was Saturday. It was the perfect day to change things back to normal, again. His mind was working an excellent plan, or better yet, an excellent excuse.

Zuko hadn't had a free day in weeks, and today was a beautiful day. He wanted to spend the day with his friends (They're only going to be here for a few weeks), his mom (I've already spent five years of my life without her), and himself. Yes, he needed time with himself.

In fact, why not fire the guys he hated? There were some pretty stuck-up noses around the palace that needed to be reminded of their position…Jian was very organized, but his "delicacy" made Zuko very uncomfortable. Who was it that had recommended him? Katara. Of course she would recommend him.

Zuko shook his head. He was already used to having Jian around, whether he liked it or not, plus Jian wasn't a bad person and he had been doing his job quite decently. That lucky ass(istant) Jian would get to keep his job. Zuko chuckled in realization. And why not get rid of the heartless ministers as well? Oh, so many people were going to fall that day!

The thought of owning his life had made Zuko feel better and, in less than five minutes, he was in an excellent mood. He jumped out of his bed and moved to the closet. Today he was going to pick out his own clothes, because he felt like the king of the world, and kings pick their own things. The others just put them on.

A red tee-shirt, a brown jacket, blue jeans and his favorite pair of converse will be enough. He took off the ridiculous clothes that the servants had put him into (he felt sorry for the guys, it took four of them to get him inside the robe). He threw the shirt over his head, put on his pants one leg at a time; he placed the brown jacket upon his shoulders and he didn't even bother to put on socks.

He stopped.

He looked at the clock.

6:30 a.m.

"What the hell's wrong with me?" He stood up. "I just need coffee."

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**And Zuko swore he'd never be addicted to silly drinks. XD Remember to read, and more importantly, to review!**


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